six words: small house

small house + no quiet = writer's block

 

mama needs quiet space to write

 

 

 

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six words: lazy days

dedicating myself to a relaxing summer

 

doesn't that look cool and inviting?
 

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six words: slowly sorting...

 

I only wish my attic was this neat...
and full of antiques!

 

 

...because boxes lead down memory lane

 

 




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confessions of a slow-baked couch potato

I am so busy doing nothing, that the idea of doing anything — which as you know, always leads to something — cuts into the nothing and then forces me to have to drop everything.

~ Jerry Seinfeld

 

I just might be a hardcore couch potato.  There, I said it.  The truth is, I love to sit around.  Of course, I’m not exactly doing nothing.  I do a lot while I lounge about.  Talking, reading, writing, thinking – these are my favorite pastimes and conveniently all can take place from my living room sofa.

(Does anyone remember that children’s show The Big Comfy Couch?  Well, my dust bunnies might be bigger.  Seriously.  Oh, and I wish I had as much cool stuff tucked under my cushions as Loonette the clown does, but there’s just lint...and aforementioned dust bunnies.) 

Don’t get me wrong, I have to get up off the couch plenty.  I exercise, run errands, do laundry (now and then), cook for and feed various people, even clean once in a while.  Okay, all kidding aside -- I don't channel surf, nor do I gorge on junk food and I’m also an animated person in my demeanor.  People even describe me as energetic and enthusiastic...and I am, just not by inclination. Yes, if only they knew the truth, that by nature I’m more of a sloth.  Now, sloth is considered a sin by some and a trait to be ashamed of.  I guess I have been embarrassed by my slothiness at times.  Everyone else seems to be so busy that I tend to feel a little guilty.  Or at least, I used to. 

We live today in a culture of busy is better.  Ask someone how they are, and more than likely the answer will be “busy” – complete with the litany from an exceedingly long to-do list.  This is not necessarily a good thing.  An article in the NY Times last summer refers to busyness as trap, even further, as a means of hedging nothing short of existential angst.  I’ve noticed that the complaint of being over extended is almost treated as a badge of honor.  Everyone is trying to cram so much living into their lives that they aren’t actually living IN their life – instead they are continuously burying every present moment with frenetic activity, and often as a means for distraction.  

(There are people in this world for whom free time truly is a luxury.  They work harder in order to survive than most of us can possibly imagine.  People in those circumstances are obviously not busy for the sake of being busy.  To them, no doubt, this could all sound churlish or elite;  they should have such problems.  Mindful of that let me just say – busy is clearly relative.) 

As I blogged about recently, during breast cancer treatment I did a lot of reflecting on what mattered most to me.  When my mortality seemed immanent I didn’t care about projects I’d never complete, activities my kids didn’t participate in or how messy my house got (as if).  Every single ounce of guilt or expectation went right out the window.  Think about that -- no expectation, no guilt.  It was a rare opportunity, a moment of unprecedented clarity for me.  And as I went thru the mental files of my life I realized some of the best memories were the times I just sat still and talked with my children...listening to all their thoughts, great & small.  It was those precious moments with no agenda, no pressure to accomplish anything, that gave me great joy.   

I’m not suggesting everyone sit on their couch and vegetate for the sake of happiness.  Things need to get done, sometimes a lot of things...and sometimes we want to engage physically.  Being active is healthy; in fact, it’s one of my personal goals, to be more active.  But it’s another goal of mine to let go of as many inessential activities as possible...to gently cull from my life what is unnecessary, because being busy is, in my opinion, decidedly not better. 

Kids need ample unstructured time to let their imaginations grow...and so do us grown-ups.  We need time to slow down, to stare out the window and day dream, to be creative not as a means to an end but for the sake of creativity itself...we need time just to let our minds wander...we need time to be.  Socrates said an unexamined life isn’t worth living.  If you are too busy filling every moment with a flurry of activity then there’s no time to examine anything to begin with, let alone much of any substance worth examining when all is said and done.  Busy is not only not better; it can be the very thing that, instead of filling your life, leaves you completely empty.

I found out there are others interested in letting go of busy, such as those in various slow movements --slow food, slow home, heck, there’s even slow fashion!  But truthfully I feel like some of these slow advocates are still too ambitious for a slacker like me.  Perhaps my speed isn’t slow, it’s off -- as in turn off everything, sit down and settle back for a bit, get reacquainted with your family, your friends...and your own self, too.    

Like at this very moment...I am sitting (where else) on my couch typing these words.  My kids will be up soon, and the first thing they will do is come sit next to me, curling into my waiting arms all groggy and still warm from sleep.  I’ll put this laptop aside and breathe them in, take a moment to absorb the sweet scent of childhood in its precious brevity.  We’ll talk about what they dreamed last night and what they want to do today.  I’ll remind them we have chores and schoolwork, but after that the day, this day, is ours.  We’ll begin it from this place of centering, the middle of our lives and our home, this humble, slightly sagging, well-worn sofa.  The dust bunnies will be there, too, lurking...and that’s okay.  They can hang around for a little while longer...I don’t mind.  I have more important things not to do.

 

 

six words: staycation summary

 

 

 

Got sTuff doNe, had sOme fuN!

 

 

 



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six words: staycation



taking this week

 

off from blogging!

 

 

 

 

Hope everyone has a lovely week -- see you next saturday :)

 

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how many dishes do we need?

Twenty-three years ago when I first moved into Michael’s small urban apartment he had 4 plates, 3 bowls and a few mismatched mugs. So I added a set of dinnerware to the growing list of things we should buy. He looked confused and said, “There’s just two of us, how many dishes do we need?” I laughed and thought, typical guy. Not long after, we bought a nice service for eight...eight of everything -- bowls, dinner plates, salad plates, dessert plates, cups & saucers. The set filled our kitchen’s minimal cupboard to bursting, but I knew someday we’d have a house to put it all in. Besides, what if company came? 

But, we never entertained in that tiny apartment, so it was just the two of us. We were a lazy busy couple with no dishwasher.  Every plate and bowl would get used before someone would break down have time to wash them. Dirty dishes often overflowed from the small sink. The kitchen was cluttered with all the things we had no room for in the overstuffed cabinet. It was a constant battle against chaos. 
 

When we finally moved into our house years later the dishes no longer went with my changing tastes. But rather than relegate them to the donation pile they were stored in the basement in case. In case maybe I’d grow to like them again...or perhaps our future children might want them someday. The set was one of the first things their father and I bought together as a couple so they were special, and you are supposed to keep special things. That’s what my grandmother always did.

 
My late grandmother was an antiques and collectibles dealer. She taught me the fine art of treasure hunting. She was also a hoarder that taught me the not so fine art of attaching emotional value to every object you own. It can be a pleasant notion, at first; that each item in your home tells a little story. I am by nature a story lover, so the idea of passing down heirlooms and tales that go with them has innate appeal. But other things get passed down sometimes, too. Things like habits and sensibilities that may not be practical, or worse -- can become unhealthy.  

My grandmother could have lived to see my children born. She could have told them her many stories, with or without her vast "collections". But tragically the year before I became pregnant with Megan she fell down the stairs in her home and died as a result of her injuries. It was horrific.  She lived alone in a large multilevel dwelling and refused to downsize because it would mean getting rid of too many things. When I previously wrote about her death it was with the mindset that she died where she wanted to, after a long life, in her “beloved” (and stuffed to the rafters) house. That is one way to look at it, but I am not quite so easily reconciled to that today.  

 

I have thought about my own death, for obvious reasons.  Amidst those unpleasant thoughts about my mortality comes the realization that my family will have to deal with my things...my stuff. I am not a hoarder by any means. But I do have a lot of stuff, especially for the small house we have chosen to continue living in. And in that light many of my belongings tell different stories to me now.  Along with anecdotes and recollections, some of my things also tell the story of lost time...time spent searching for items I cannot find in clutter, time spent trying to keep up with cleaning and caring for objects instead of pursuing activities that nourish my creative spirit, not to mention the time and energy used to acquire these things in the first place. Frankly, I’m not sure I can afford to waste that much time. Then again, can anyone? 

 

It has dawned on me that not every belonging has the potential to be treasure, in fact, much of it could be more akin to burden. I also realize that by striving to have less I can work towards getting more – as in getting more out of my life.  
 

How often do we say we have too much on our plates? In my case I had too many plates and not enough on them. So now whenever I consider buying anything I ask myself...how many dishes do I need? This mental shorthand reminds me about what is important. I only need enough – what is sufficient to feed my soul and the souls of my loved ones with. And in that regard, I already have plenty...I already have everything I need.

A totally cancer-free post

TEN THINGS ABOUT ME:

I am both a neat freak and a slob –like I’ll complain that Michael didn’t put the tea back exactly where it belongs when the entire kitchen looks like a bomb hit it.

I have no hesitation about public speaking whatsoever. I’ll address a crowd of just about any size in a heartbeat.

I love cemeteries -- I espcially like to find a quiet spot where I can just sort of gaze out over all the headstones and the grounds…for some reason a cemetery view always seems to inspire me to write poetry.

One of my favorite songs to sing is Amazing Grace – yet I’m not Christian. Oh, and if I hear it played on the bagpipes I become a sniveling puddle.

My favorite place to be in the world is Cape Cod, Massachusetts…particularly Wellfleet or Provincetown. Spending time traversing those windswept dunes or strolling the quaint cobblestone streets fills me with a sense of belonging and peace.

If I had to choose one last meal it would probably be a burger, fries & chocolate shake (the vegan versions, of course).

Summer is my least favorite season – I absolutely hate the heat. Autumn is my favorite time of year.

Parting with books is very hard for me… I’m trying to be less sentimental and have managed to give away a few, but books are like old friends -- even the ones that I’ve outgrown are hard to part with because of the memories.

I’ve only left the country twice – both times to Canada. As a kid I spent two weeks in Ontario and then after graduation I spend three months working as a nanny for a wealthy family in their Quebec summer home.

I actually like cloudy, gray days almost more than sunny ones. There’s something about the way other colors pop against a silvery gray sky that speaks to me aesthetically.Thanks so much to lovely Lesa at Always Summer who gave me the two awards below, I’m honored – and I also can't tell you how good it was to do a fun post having NOTHING to do whatsoever with breast cancer -- gosh I really needed that!

Now I’d like to pass the awards on to the following fantastic blogs:

Already Pretty
The Small Fabric of My Live
Utah Savage
Ephemera
The Blue Kimono
Tessa Scoffs
La Belette Rouge
notSupermum
The Writing Instinct
Shallow Coffee
Brenda's Blog From Paraguay
Udarata Kella
Inside Out Style
Goodbye to Boobs
Stumble Into Style

Beautiful Blogger Award rules: - Thank the person(s) who nominated you and give a link to their blog. Copy the award and paste it to your blog. Pass this award on to 15 fantastic bloggers you have discovered.

Rules for Sugardoll award: Thank and link the person who gave you the award. Pass this award onto fabulous bloggers of your choice. Contact said blogs and let them know they've won. Re-post and state 10 things about yourself.

Farewell to Thistle Dew

So, amidst my various health issues there's been an additional saga going on regarding the house we're buying . One thing after another has delayed the purchase. But as of today we are looking at a closing date of around mid to late May (barring anymore unforeseen glitches). All this means we will have to pack up 16 years of our life here at the cottage in a matter of about six weeks. It seems an almost impossible task.

This is actually the longest I have lived anywhere. From the time I first left my parents home at 17 until I came here at the age of thirty I moved over ten times. Of course, I wasn't moving in and out of houses, just apartments or back home with the folks...and I didn't have two kids to pack up back then either so I traveled a little lighter. But clearly I'm a little rusty at the whole moving thing now after all these years of staying put. Guess you could say this stone has gotten quite mossy for lack of rolling ;)

The process of packing inevitably inspires a few trips down memory lane as you dig around the dark corners of basements, attics and closets. You can’t help but start thinking about your past, good bad or indifferent. That will be an about face for me of late since everything has been so hyper-focused either on the immediate present of illness or the uncertain future of questionable longevity. Perhaps as nerve-wracking as this moving ordeal will be it might also serve as a good thing -- a welcome change of perspective as I look backward for a little bit. It will be a chance to sort thru some of the junk, both literally and figuratively speaking.

I remember when my mother sold the home I was raised in. While I loved the gracious old house itself and I do have some fond memories growing up there, there were also quite a few recollections I would have gladly not packed up and taken with me. But even with all that, I still found myself feeling very emotional as I stood in what was my old childhood bedroom, the last one to leave the house on the closing day. I whispered goodbye aloud because it felt like the house needed to hear it as much as I needed to say it. For a long while whenever I drove by the street I couldn't look, couldn't bear to see the evidence of someone else living in my home.

My late grandmother kept the house she raised my father and his sister in till the day she died. That house was her life and her determination to stay there is actually what killed her in the end.  Although healthy well into her 80’s she was not very surefooted.  One tragic day she fell down the stairs.  Days later she died of her injuries. It was a shocking end and seemed so preventable. In fact all of us had tried to get her to give up the home, to move into some sort of assisted living arrangement or even just a single floor condo or flat. But she had packed the house from cellar to rooftop with trinkets and treasures. And then there were her cats…if you were a stray within a 50 mile radius you knew to go to Hazel’s house – at one time she had nearly a dozen cats. She just couldn’t imagine limiting the population of either felines or material objects to fit into a smaller space.

After she died, some in my family were filled with regret and remorse for not having tried to force her into leaving, myself included. But in retrospect I think her life ended as she would have wanted. The prospect of uprooting her self and her belongings might have proven worse and hastened her death more than the fall. She died in her beloved home. That is where she wanted to be after living a long and full life. That is how she wanted to die. I understand that more than ever now.

I’ve never felt quite that way about any place I’ve lived, you know, loved it so much that I would make such a significant sacrifice. But I can imagine feeling that way very easily…I’ve always been a born romantic when it comes to houses.

The house we live in now is a wonderful little place, but it never quite felt permanent…it was supposed to be a starter house though we ended up staying way longer than we originally intended. In fact we actually tried to move once before, years ago. We had a buyer at the ready but when we began hunting for a new house it quickly became apparent that even by spending more money we wouldn’t be able to find anything that we liked all that much better in our price range at the time.

After we’d returned home from what ended up being the last day out with the realtor, my husband stood in the driveway, looked at the house and said what I thought was, “Thistle dew.” It took me a few minutes to realize he’d actually said, “This’ll do,” as in this house would do instead of moving. From that day forward our little home was named Thistle Dew Cottage. It fit. All these years we’ve thought it wasn’t grand or very special, but it was fine, it was quite nice. It would do.

And now it is finally time to say farewell. Some of the very happiest times of my life have been spent in this house...both my children were born while we lived here and Michael and I started our married life together shortly before we moved in. We've surely faced our share of challenges and weathered storms here too, especially this last year. This house has contained it all, it's part of the very fabric of our memories, the background for the most important moments of our lives, good and bad. And even though we are moving up, going somewhere bigger and better it will be very hard to say goodbye. Thistle Dew Cottage turned out to be special after all, just by virtue of being our home, the place where our lives happened around us. Within these walls a family was created. I will miss this place and hold it in my heart forever.

PS:  it turns out not to have been goodbye...we are still here, apparently this'll still do :)

Big things happening...

It’s a sad reality that by the time I start to feel human again it’s just a couple days till the next round of chemo and I find myself cramming as much “normal” into those few days as possible – time with my kids just being regular old Mama, time with Michael where he doesn’t have to take care of me, and time just to enjoy not feeling nauseous.

Thursday is round 4 and the last of this drug regimen. I begin four more rounds of a different drug a couple weeks after that. That will take 3 months. It’s daunting…very daunting.

But for a few moments I’m going to try not to think about all that and just write about something else, something not remotely chemo related. Something rather pleasant, actually :)

BIG THINGS have been going on and I haven’t had a moment to blog about them. Remember this house?

Well, we’re buying it!!! And we’ve sold our house – in fact we had a bit of a bidding war and even got a smidge more than our asking price, can you believe it? Good thing too, since the new house is in need of serious work. The present owner will likely have to replace at least part of the septic system, the hot water heater, cracked chimney flue and a few other things…we need to eventually replace all the kitchen appliances, all the flooring save for 2 rooms (living & dining rooms which are hardwood and just need sanding) plus pretty much redo 3 bathrooms. Oh, and paint…. lots and lots of paint.

The place is obviously a handyman special, but honestly that’s why we can afford it. Aside from all the updating it is a lovely and gracious home with 4 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, a huge kitchen plus a family room, living room and formal dining room. Oh, and a spacious, welcoming foyer, back mudroom and laundry on the 1st floor. It’s also on a great cul-de-sac…the location is truly stellar -- there are protected woodlands that go on for miles behind the house. Plus,check out this view from the back deck:

Well, that’s my news and about all I can manage right now, but I just HAD to share some happy stuff (for a change) with my beloved readers. Thank you for your continued support and best wishes, they are precious to me and my family, believe me.

Be well and wish me luck!!!!

What would you do?

As if I haven't already had to make enough agonizing decisions of late, now I can't decide what to do about the house we are considering purchasing. Once again I find myself in a quandry. I'll say this, tho, it has definitely taken my mind off my impending chemo, lol!

Here's the deal: Love, love, love the house. Did I mention that I love it? It is almost perfect. While it is at the tippy top of our price range it is quite doable. Thankfully the house doesn't need any work to move in. Even my furniture will all fit just right. All I will need to purchase is a new computer desk for me to write at, with an incredible view to gaze upon while I ponder, I might add.

So, what's the problem, you may be asking?

The house is on a VERY busy street. It's a county road, just two lanes...but the speed limit is 50mph. It's also in the middle of a straight run of secluded woods, meaning some folks tend to go faster than recommended. The house itself is only shy of 25 feet from the road's edge. That feels pretty close.

Of course first and foremost I'm worried about the kids. I also know that between the fact that we are the epitome of over protective parents and that children do grow up and learn not to run out into busy roads, Daniel & Megan would no doubt always be safe. But there is that idea of a slim chance, that awful reality that if they somehow pulled away or got careless at just the wrong moment and went a couple dozen feet away from our front door they could be....well, I don't even want to say it.

And talk about life imitating art! In my novel, for those that don't know, the family lost a son about the age of my own because he was sadly struck by a car when he managed to get out of the house unbeknownst to the parents. Now, these parents were wrapped up in their own issues and were careless...I'd like to think that would never happen to us. I'd have child safety locks on my child safety locks I'm that nuts about keeping my kids protected. But still, it gave me an uneasy feeling to think that here I am writing about a child being tragically killed by a car and I decide to put my own children more in harms way than they are now.

Now, let me say there is a sturdy little picket fence across most of the front of the property which we could continue to essentially completely block access. Also, with the addition of a simple gravel driveway the door which the family could come & go from, seen here between the well and the tree, is much further from the street than the official front door...like probably at least 50 feet...and that area of the yard is blocked by not one but two fences (thanks to it being behind the garden). And further -- most of the entire 2.5 acres of land is behind the house and fences...like practically 2 acres of it. There's plenty of room to play and explore (with supervision) far, far away from any danger. You can see the back yard is quite expansive in this picture.

I should also add that Michael is very artistic and handy...he has wonderful carpentry skills and is a folk-artist in his own right. This property being on a main drag would open up the opportunity of him selling some of his work, we could even spruce up the little old barn and open it as a sort of impromptu rustic shop/gallery now and then. In fact, we once considered buying commercial property to have a little shop so this is not a new idea. What with the garden and perrenials and herbs, we could also do up a little farm stand right there by the road side -- there's even a small parking lot already there.

In terms of noise, when things are quiet inside (rare in a house w/kids, lol) you do hear the cars go by, but not as loudly as you might think. I believe that this old house has rather thick walls because the sounds from outdoors are kind of muffled. The nice thing too is that the main living room is at the back of the house so it the most quiet. Even with a screen door open I was surprised at how buffered the noise was -- but it can always be heard, no denying it. Where I live now is pretty quiet. It's also not a busy street...because of a blind curve I don't let my kids play or walk by themselves, but hours can go by without a car. I'm a bit sensitive to noises so this is all a concern.

I am back and forth about this. We bought our small home 15 years ago and intended it to be either a starter house or something we expanded. Yet in all these years we have looked at many houses, never finding one we wanted to make an offer on, good houses here are hard to come by. The house in question is move in ready, larger than my home now. It clearly oozes charm. But my present house is kinda cute too and could be easily expanded, maybe even for less money...and while we have a smaller amount of land (1/2 acre) we also back up to protected woods, just like the other house.

What would you do? How do you feel about busy streets? Would that preclude you from buying what otherwise could be your dream home?

Should I stay or should I go?

I'm in love

I don't know about you, but I have a mental list of homes that I have always loved. Some are no doubt out of our league financially speaking, but several could be within reach if they should ever come up for sale. I've lived here in this town for 15 years and only once has one of these dozen or so houses been on the market. Unfortunately it was a smidge over the top of our range and had a bidding war already going on. We also were surprised at just how small it was on the inside. It lacked a few necessities we have in our present home. So we let it go.

Right before I was diagnosed another of my favorite houses came up for sale. We called and it was out of our budget. It turns out that it has almost three acres of land and is larger than it looks from the road. The home is an historic 1880's colonial complete with cottage gardens and authentic well out front. I always thought it looked like the kind of house a writer would live in...romantic that I am. Not that a writer couldn't also live in an industrial loft...or a rustic cabin...or some other such place. I know a novel can be written anywhere...but ambience doesn't hurt either -- I'm easily inspired by my surroundings.

Anyway, Sunday Michael and I were out & about and drove past the place...it is surprisingly still on the market and they were having an open house. I say surprisingly because even in this economy I thought it would already have been sold. Turns out not only is it still up for sale, but they have dropped the price considerably...as in we could theoretically afford it now.

Yes, I am crazy. Yes, I know this is not the time to even think about this for soooo many reasons they are beyond counting. This is absolutely not practical on several levels. But I am still going to think about it. I may even do it!

A person with cancer wouldn't do this. And that is precisely why I want to do it. I can't explain it any better than that.

We went inside and fell in love. Wide plank oak floors, a sun room, a view of the gorgeous back yard, a small dilapidated barn...

Okay, it is on a very busy county road and the front of the house is quite close to the street...you hear the sound of cars whooshing by while you are in the kitchen. But the kitchen has the cutest window over the sink and more cabinets than I have now.

Yes, it's old and not as easy maintenance as our home now...but it has been very well cared for...there's also a rolling hill in the back yard that the kids could sled down come winter. It's surrounded by protected woods. It has a fenced in garden just screaming for herbs and vegetables. And I just know that in one of those upstairs rooms I could finish my novel.

Speaking of which -- tho I haven't posted some of the excerpts, there are several that prominently feature the homes that my characters live in. Homes are like characters in and of themselves. This house is a place I could see myself in. Don't get me wrong, I like my present house well enough, but I have never loved it. Yet I always thought I would live in a home that I was crazy about...that I truly adored.

I would totally love this house. I already do.

So, we'll see...if it doesn't happen I will chalk it up as not meant to be. But here are some pix in the meantime:

What a hoot!

No outfit picture today -- hanging around the house and doing some preliminary holiday cleaning and not exactly dressed photo-worthy. But in the interim I just had to post this really cool pic of a recent visitor to my yard. Perched on a hemlock branch right behind where I often stand for my photos is a beautiful barred owl -- and she's come to our yard every day for 3 days now.

While I'm at it, this brings up a FAQ: where do I live? I live in northern NJ in an area called the Highlands, a part of New Jersey with lots of state parks and protected watershed. In fact, my little mid century cottage backs up onto 150+ acres of protected woodland, thus we have alot of wildlife on my quiet street that one doesn't typically associate with suburban NJ...coyote, bear, deer, fox, turkey and now this beautiful owl. We are blessed to live where we do...we have all this gorgeous nature -- yet I'm minutes from the highway and my DH commutes to NYC!

So, enjoy the view out my window & have a great day...see ya tomorrow w/an outfit pic :)